


Darkness, My Old Friend

by thecattydddy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Angel Family, Multi, Reincarnation, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When The Darkness breaks free and threatens to overthrow the entire world and devour all of God's creations, the Winchester brothers must team up with an angel, a teenager and a mysteriously resurrected "trickster" to try and stop the end of life as they know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

 

_Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it._

**Terry Pratchett**

* * *

Heaven and it's system of angels had always been too complex for the human mind to understand. An angel was not bound by simple constructs like family and could not be swayed by misplaced affections. Every angel held the same regard and the same love for one another. El had originally made them so dedicated to one another and so dedicated to him that anything else would have been incredibly unthinkable. After the Leviathan, he'd _purposefully_ created them that way. Samil had glanced over his shoulder as he worked and critiqued him, but that was the fate of an artist, wasn't it?

“That's too much devotion, El. They'll be blinded by it,” the manifestation of death noted. He did not yet look old or aged. If anything, his appearance took on a youthful and bright persona. Considering life had not existed very long just yet, this was probably to be expected. El, himself, barely looked much different.For as long as El could remember, Samil had followed him and his creations. He had not the same, tender soul that El did, but they were still friends of sorts. Samil humored his efforts and El shared his sorrows in their loneliness. The Darkness continued on around them, but dared not consume them like it did everything else. It feared their existence. The two of them would come to find that would be the reaction of nearly every thing to ever be, but they didn't know that, yet.

“They'll be guided by it. Supported by their brothers and sisters,” El had insisted, carefully crafting the light into the form of the very first of the angels. It hummed in his presence; a sound almost like the cry of an infant brought newly to the world. The small creature was passed to Samil, who cradled it with apathy written across his aura. A single touch could have easily ended the small thing, but El trusted his friend and Samil rewarded him for it.

“It is not as amusing as the Leviathan.” Samil extended himself towards the infant, who latched onto him as a small child would hold the finger of someone older to them. It's humming sounded more like cooing and for the briefest of moments, his apathy melted into something akin to affection. As quickly as it'd come, it was gone and the infant was passed back to El.

“They will be much better,” El promised. Unlike Samil, his affections poured out of him in multitudes and wrapped around the child like a blanket. “And at the head of their ranks shall be this one; Whose name shall be Michael.” The infant, Michael, responded to the name immediately.

“If you are to name your creations, should you not name us as well?” Samil wondered, “We cannot be known to them by the same thing that we call one another.”

El looked to Samil, curiously, “What names did you have in mind, Samil?”

“You are to be their father and their creator. You should be known as such.” Samil brushed gently over Michael, a sad gesture if anything. “And I will be known to them as the being closest to The Darkness they will always fear. I will both save them from it and cast them into it. I will be known to them as Death.”

“What a terrible and cynical thing to say, Samil,” El rolled his eyes. “You will be their friend as you have been mine. If it so pleases you, I will have them use these names you have suggested, but do not think they will assume resistance to you. You and I are not inherently good or evil. We are dictated by freewill.”

“You are responsible to life and creation, El,” Samil warned him with a suddenly dark aura. “Do not be fooled by freewill. You are bound to the creatures you create and to guide them.”

“Then I will create them with this same freewill, so that they may guide themselves.” El held Michael closer.

Samil looked dubious to this. “They will always seek your guidance, El. You have made them dictated by love and affection. Free will is a sweet, but indefinite lie.”

“I will continue to try until I find one that works.” El considered placing Michael down, but The Darkness swirled around them and threatened to consume him if he did.

“And what when your experimentation goes wrong? Will you cast your creations into Purgatory as you have done the ones that came before them?” The Leviathan, whom had been fierce enough to combat and consume The Darkness, had threatened to become it in much the same way. Their continued existence would have consumed everything he ever created and would have been more vicious in doing so. The Darkness consumed mindlessly, but the Leviathan had been shrew and tactful. El could not have stopped them on his own, so he locked them away and hoped he need never request the help of Samil in destroying his own creations. Even in their imperfection, El still loved them and would regret doing such a thing.

El looked back to Michael, hardening his expression. “It wont be like that. They will be different. These children will be built from love, not as a means to end The Darkness. It will be different.”

Samil, despite El's best efforts, looked unconvinced. “If that is what you truely believe, I will not stop you.”

And so, El continued on. He first raised Michael to fight and even lent the tiny being some of his power to fight The Darkness away until it feared Michael also and dared not consume it. Michael was still a young thing when El brought to him the second of his creations.

“Father.” Michael looked to his creator when the being of light was handed to him. “What is this?”

“Michael, this is your little brother,” El explained, calmly. “His name is Lucifer and he was created to be the most beautiful of my creations. You are well enough in your ways to protect yourself, but now you must also protect him. I expect you to fend The Darkness off from him until he is old enough to scare it away, himself. He is your responsibility.”

“Of course, Father.” Michael radiated sincerity, holding the small angel to himself. He could only just remember the days when he, himself, had been so small. “I will watch out for him.”

“That's my boy.” Michael had hummed at the affectionate touch El gave him. It was always his desire to seek approval from his creator.

And so, while Michael raised Lucifer, El set to work on his next creation. Samil tried to keep his distance from the two small angels, but was occasionally drawn to them, anyways. Michael, in particular, he was fond of. The boy was slowly being hardened by The Darkness, but he learned early to show Samil as much respect as he had shown his father and one could even say loved him like one would love a relative such as an uncle or a cousin. He, as if taking after Samil's example, showed his emotions less freely as time went by, but they need never outright express their feelings to one another. A simple nod to the other on occasion spoke more than words could.

Lucifer, much like El had claimed he would be, was beautiful. He was breathtaking and even Samil had to admit it. El grew incredibly fond of Lucifer and, while he had long since stopped taking the time to teach Michael, still popped in to see what would become his favorite. Lucifer grew somewhat vain for it, but he loved his father and his brother no less. Samil was not as fond of him. Because El had been known to shower Lucifer in nearly anything he could desire, the youngest angel had assumed Samil and Michael would be the same. While his demands were not immense, they were still often enough to be irritating to the manifestation of Death.

“Death.” Michael watched nearby as his brother flew around and tempted The Darkness. It had long since become afraid of the Morning star as well, but an elder brother could never be too careful. “Do you find Lucifer beautiful like Father?”

“He is beautiful on the surface, but he lacks discipline.” Death had looked to the angel beside him. The entity was still so young and so ready to take orders. He had been told to love his baby brother and love him he did, but it came at a price. “You find him beautiful as well.”

It was not a question, but Michael answered it anyways. “I am meant to because I love him and I love Father.”

“Do you worry for what he may become, Michael? With no one to tell him no?”

Michael seemed confused. “I only worry that he may ever be told that at all. As an angel, it is his right to whatever he may wish.”

“And you?” Samil inquired. “Are you not also an angel? Do you not have right to the same?”

“I only wish to carry out my responsibility and to protect those I love.” Michael looked to him with a hard and relentless expression. It was cute on such a young face, but the words made Samil somewhat sad. “I will protect everything important to me. If it should happen, I would do the same for you, Death.”

Samil considered this and the two were silent for a time, just watching Lucifer taught The Darkness. Finally, he spoke, again. “You need not protect me, Michael. Your burden is already heavy for you to worry about me. I am an entity unaffected by such trivial things as the Darkness and destruction. The only thing that can harm me is my very own hand.”

“Then I will protect you from yourself.” Michael missed not even a single beat before responding.

“Would you be able to do the same for your father and your brother?” Michael had no answer to that one.

* * *

  _By Thursday morning, we'd gotten over the worst of it._

**William Scranton**

* * *

The next one was not nearly as beautiful as Lucifer had been. Michael hadn't loved him nearly as much as he did his first brother. Samil found him amusing, but not was not nearly as drawn to him as he had been Michael. Their father had already chosen his favorite and was often too busy to give the time required to form a deeper bond with an angel.

It was alright, though. Gabriel didn't mind. He saw they were happy and that was alright. Lucifer was a little vain and Michael a little too blinded by devotion. God was a little absent and Death a little cynical, but it was all okay. He didn't mind at all. He just wanted them to be happy.

Gabriel, so he'd been told, was created with a little more freewill then the others, but a steadfast love in his heart. He had been planted down in their little family and told that he was one of them. They didn't teach him to fend off The Darkness, but that was okay because he learned how to trick it into ignoring him. Lucifer only paid much attention to him when Gabriel was praising him or looking up to him, but that was okay because Lucifer still taught him a few illusion skills. Michael didn't keep an eye on him like he did Lucifer, but that was okay because Michael still welcomed him to join their little pile when they slept and let him curl up at his side. They were a happy family and Gabriel was just happy to be part of it. He was even more happy to be useful to them.

“The Darkness… I fear it will devour my creations,” El had said. Perhaps he hadn't meant for Gabriel to hear, but the young angel found himself slipping around unnoticed and being a whole mess of trouble most of the time. El still wondered how he managed to sneak into his workplace time and again without detection.

“It has yet to do so,” Samil pointed out. “In fact, your youngest taught himself to fend it off. Quite a feat. If I do say so.” For a moment, the youngest angel could only beam in pride. Samil was not known to give out compliments to just anyone.

“Don't be ridiculous. Lucifer taught Gabriel, just as Michael taught him.” El waved the comment away as if to dispel any further thoughts on the matter. Samil looked prepared to object, but he did not vocally disagree with El. There was no point in doing so. “And the angels are only the beginning of my creations. I have an idea in mind that needs less chaotic conditions to exist in.

“What do you plan to do? You cannot destroy The Darkness.” Samil reminded him of this with a clear sense of disapproval. The Darkness was a natural existence and should not be tampered with.

“No, but I could trap it.” El gestured dramatically. “If I create something powerful enough to beat it back, I can lock it away for good.”

“What shall you use to defend against it? You last attempt to do so resulted in the Leviathan.”

“Perhaps I could use them? Lock the angels in their own little purgatory until the Darkness is defeated and then let them out when the Leviathans have been put back in their box.” Gabriel thought back onto the time Death had told him of the Leviathan and shivered at the thought creatures so dark and terrifying as that should never be let out. It would be a decision only resulting in pain.

And then an idea came to him. A perfect, incredible idea that would make his family so happy. There was already someone strong enough to fight against The Darkness. There was no need to release an old creation or make a new one. They had a perfectly good one already in their hands.

“I'll help!” Gabriel had burst out, radiating joy and eagerness. His sudden exposure startled both El and Samil and they took a moment to realize he'd been listening in. “I will fight The Darkness if it will make you all happy!” That was all Gabriel could ask for, was happiness.

“You cannot take on such a task alone, Gabriel,” El pointed out, but there was consideration behind his eyes. “I should think your brothers should fight beside you. They are better experienced and older. They will take care of this threat.”

“If that's what you wish, Father.” Gabriel wanted to do whatever was best for the family. That was all he could ever ask for.

“I should think you will all need someone who is a real soldier as well… Someone prepared to take orders.” The gears were already turning in El's head as he began forming a new creation. “I shall make you one last brother. Until he is with us, you are all to prepare for this.”

“Of course, Father!” Without being dismissed, Gabriel was off to tell his brother's the good news. They were going to do something amazing as a team. For once, he was absolutely certain that he had a place.

Or, he had thought that until he actually spoke with Michael and Lucifer. The two began to squabble over the decision. As they fought back and forth, Gabriel sat staring at them with wide eyes and a breaking heart. To see them fighting like this was difficult for an angel who'd only ever wanted to see them peaceful. The Darkness swirling around them fed into his sadness, building it like a fire when newspaper is added to it. It amplified Michael's anger and Lucifer's vanity. It caused a rift between their family as if to tear them apart before they could ever defeat it. It was as if it was aware of their plans to trap it and wanted to stop them before they'd ever begun.

“You absolutely cannot fight The Darkness! It will swallow you whole!” Michael was fuming, his anger shooting off in every direction. Gabriel could feel it seep into his skin and it made him curl back in fear.

“It hasn't dared come near me since I was a fledgling! There is no reason to think it would suddenly change it's mind, now!” Lucifer screeched back, not afraid to get up in Michael's face. The pride in his words were evident. They made Gabriel feel small and insignificant.

“And you want to tempt that? Are you really so foolish!”

“I don't see why you care so much! Gabriel is younger than I am, but you'll let _him_ fight!”

“Gabriel is the idiot that got us into this mess!” Michael's words drew the sadness closer to the surface, making him curl himself into as small of a ball as he could manage. The guilt of having caused their fighting settled in him, even if he knew that The Darkness was escalating it. He could see the way it urged their debate on and still fell prey to a few simple words.

“He's still your brother!”

“Hardly! He's a brat and a mischievous child! He barely does anything!”

“So you want me to be like him then! Be useless while the rest of you are off doing who knows what?”

“I want you to be safe!”

“I want to be able to give you the same courtesy!”

“What's going on here?” El's voice boomed over them and the argument froze in its tracks. All three angels looked to their creator with guilt evident on them. With a sigh, he broke his anger and gave to them a new angel, whom he called Raphael.

“You are to raise him to fight in this war against The Darkness, Michael,” El had explained, his eyes raking over them. They softened in affection at all of them, but especially towards Lucifer. Gabriel wasn't jealous, he was only happy they weren't fighting anymore. “When he is ready, we will all begin the war together. As a family. We only need to push it back far enough for me to lock it away. I expect all of you to assist me in this effort.”

“Of course, Father.” Michael was the only one that spoke, but his words rang true for all of them. The eldest angel took up the task of raising Raphael while their creator made the box The Darkness would reside in. Lucifer, having not much else to do while they waited, helped Gabriel perfect his illusions. They weren't exactly happy, but they were together and, perhaps, that was enough.

And then the war against the Darkness came, which they won. Of course they did. They were _angels_ after all. The door was shut and the Mark was made to keep it so. El could only trust his favorite angel with the responsibility of baring it. Samil thought Michael would be a better fit, but did not argue El's decision. Gabriel could sense the evil coming off of it and wanted to spare them the burden, but he dared not speak up. Raphael's youthfulness had been consumed by fighting the Darkness. He wanted it just to have his sense of purpose back.

With the war over, El began to make new angels and gave to his first four the title of Archangel. It was their reward for their help in the war against the darkness that they be placed above the other creations. They all accepted it graciously. The Heavens were crafted as a perfect place for them and the Earth was manifested below that. A gate separated the two, pristine and beautiful. The other angels always used it when going to and from Heaven, but Gabriel always like to find the backdoors. They were special and private – Like his own little personal gate. He kept them to himself.

The angels were beginning to multiply to new numbers and he watched them with interest. He, alongside his brothers, were given the responsibility of handing out guardianships. It was on the fifth day that he found himself walking the Earth with an angel, whose wings were a perfect ebony black and who's eyes shined brightly at the world. He was a humble angel, but gave off the sense of greater things. He was beautiful in Gabriel's eyes and was the archangel's favorite.

“Castiel,” Gabriel had asked, sweetly, gently stroking the young angel's wings in affection. “You are to be given guardianship of something. What do you think it should be?” The young angel looked up to him, quizzically. The ocean lapped at his toes and he wandered past the water without another thought.

“I don't know,” Castiel answered honestly, glancing out towards the horizon. He lifted his foot, as if to take another step forward when Gabriel suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of his shoulder. It took Castiel a moment to realize there was something underfoot. Gabriel held him back enough so the fish could safely walk past them. It pulled itself onto the land with a struggle, looking fairly pathetic and in pain. Castiel considered crushing it beneath his feet just to put the poor thing out of its misery.

As if sensing his thoughts, Gabriel spoke up. “Don't step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish.” They watched the creature travel across the land, disappearing in the underbrush and completely from sight. For a few moments afterwards, they stayed there in silence. Again, Castiel looked out towards the horizon. The sun was just beginning to come up over the horizon, painting the sky a faded hue of orange. One the tip of his tongue he could taste a soon coming storm.

“The storm will help it better to adapt to its new surroundings.” As always, Gabriel had an answer to all of Castiel's unspoken questions. “With time, it will become our father's greatest creation, yet.”

“What will it become?” Castiel wondered, eyes bright in wonder.

“Only our father knows.” Castiel was stunned at that response. Gabriel always had the answers to everything. He looked back to the place where the fish had disappeared, his thoughts running away from him.

“I would like to be the guardian of that fish,” Castiel announced, his chest held high. Gabriel let out a small laugh and placed an affectionate hand on his younger brother.

“You cannot be a protector of the fish, Castiel.” Gabriel's words were soft, but certain. They left no room for argument. “That is a responsibility that will fall to all of us.”

Castiel was a little disheartened by this, but he bounced back with a new request shortly after. “Then I wish to have guardianship over the fifth day, when the fish came to crawl on the land.”

“That is a very important day, Castiel,” Gabriel pointed out. There was a hint of pride in his voice for his younger brother. “You must guard it with your whole being.”

“I will, Brother.” Castiel glanced up to meet Gabriel's look.

“Then you shall be blessed with the guardianship of the fifth day. May you find peace in doing so.” Castiel let himself feel the day around him, now bearing the knowledge that it was under his protection.

Gabriel interrupted his moment, looking to the sky with a sorrow filled face. “Let us return to Heaven, Castiel. There is much to be done.”

* * *

_His face when he repeats his verses hath its ancient glory, an Archangel a little damaged._

**Charles Lamb**

* * *

Castiel found himself curled up in Gabriel's nest, his wings wrapped around him in misery. The soft bundle of golden feathers and warm glass and fresh cotton wasn't a normal occurrence for angels, but Gabriel had always been a little more on the comical side. He'd built it in his own private little corner of Heaven and said it worked for the birds, so he might as well try it. At the time, Castiel had thought it was nothing but a ridiculous display of madness, but now he was finding comfort curled up in it.

This is where Michael found him, entirely by accident. Usually, he wouldn't have the time for lower ranking angels, but Castiel was somewhat of a special case. Without even considering the fact his own little brother was enraptured by the creature – Gabriel never really was a reliable comparison for those kinds of things – there were countless other angels who loved the insignificant little ball of feathers. They would throw themselves at Castiel's feet if he asked them to. He, of course, would never ask that but that only reinforced their affections for him. It was like the tiny being was created to be loved. His attraction was only rivaled by Lucifer, himself.

“Castiel.” Despite his annoyance with the angel's current state, he took on a tone of kindness. It was natural with the tiny being where it wasn't with most others. In the same way Castiel demanded love, Michael knew he demanded compliance. It'd been built into his very design and Michael had never, for one second, assumed it was anything but their father's work.

The black wings moved aside to reveal Castiel's face. He was still so young and unaffected by cruel reality. He knew nothing of The Darkness that had once controlled the world. The Darkness that had twisted him into cruel and uncaring and had made his brother prideful and malicious. The Darkness which would devour him whole and leave nothing but a faint memory in its wake. If it'd been possible, Michael would have let it, just to be rid of the tiny nuisance.

“Michael.” Castiel was still residing in the nest, but he was at attention, now. It was obvious to see he didn't want to be any more than Michael wanted to show him kindness. They were both controlled by forces beyond themselves.

Michael came to sit beside the younger in the nest; Castiel scooting aside to make room for him. He placed a hand over the other's head. It was different from when Gabriel did it, but Castiel welcomed the contact anyways. He was so desperate for answers that it was no surprise he accepted the cold and calculating hand of Michael.

“Gabriel is gone, Castiel,” Michael explained, allowing the younger to lean into him. “He has betrayed Father and all of us.” Castiel was having trouble accepting this. He'd followed Gabriel around since he was a new fledgling, listening to the archangel's kind and wise words.

“I know it is difficult to accept, Castiel, but you must know the truth.” Michael could have forgiven Gabriel for all the foolishness he'd possessed over the years. He'd placed a willing and obedient child at his feet waiting to be molded into the perfect soldier. “Gabriel was corrupted and fled from his family. I will not do the same. You can have faith that I will be the Brother that stays by you. All I ask from you is that in return.”

Castiel looked to him, sadness shimmering in his eyes. A single, gentle kiss was placed against Castiel's forehead and he cracked. The expression was miserable, but willing. Broken, but obedient. He squared his shoulders a little and distanced himself from the eldest. For the first time, Michael noticed him holding onto one of the golden feathers that had belonged to his brother. They were stashed all about the nest like small surprises in the mess of things the two of them had enjoyed. There were a few black feathers hidden among the golden ones, but those were in places only Gabriel knew. They'd been gifts from Castiel and were not to be shared. Even the younger angel, himself, wouldn't find them without tearing the nest apart altogether.

He looked about ready to drop the feather behind, but Michael had other plans. He closed his hand over Castiel's to keep him from releasing it quite yet. “Keep it, Castiel. It will remind you of what has come to pass.”

Castiel's hand shook, but he nodded. When Michael pulled his hand away, the golden feather was quickly tucked away next to his grace for safekeeping. It was a warm sensation that only assisted in freezing over his aching heart.

“Will you stand beside me, Castiel?” With Michael sitting in Gabriel's favorite spot, the difference between the two brothers was significant. The seriousness where Gabriel had only had laughter. The white feathers of Michael's wings where gold once stood.

“Of course, Michael.”

As time passed, the fight between the archangels began to escalate. The Heavens were torn apart as brothers turned on one another. Castiel, still so young and impressionable, was terrified. Perhaps most terrifying of all was Michael, whose rage had built and overtaken him. It turned him into a monster in the fight against Lucifer and it left the Heaven's burning. He saw his brothers and sisters drop before him and their wings were scorched into the earth and the sky and the Heavens as a permanent reminder of this war.

And almost as soon as it had started, the war was over. Rumors echoed in angel radio about their father having tossed Lucifer into exile. It was a father Castiel had never had the fortune to meet, but his gratitude was immense. Peace had been restored and the Heavens and the earth had been restored from the fighting. The only mark left to remind them that it had ever happened was the very absence of Lucifer and the painful memory in Castiel's mind.

Without the brightest angel, however, Castiel had no other that rivaled his beauty left in Heaven. The other angels flocked to him like moths to a light. He, in turn, looked up to Michael to guide him. The father's word was supposed to come directly through him and Castiel would wordlessly follow anyone who would choose to end the war instead of letting it rage on. Who would save the angels instead of overlooking the casualties. Michael was disgusted when he saw the younger, though. His presence reminded the eldest angel of his first brother and he rejected another. At first, he'd tried to pawn the younger off on Raphael, but he wasn't fit to deal with Castiel like the angel needed. Raphael was a force to be reckoned with, but not exactly the mentoring type. And so, Michael had been settled with the unfortunate responsibility of Castiel.

Perhaps it'd been fated that Zachariah would step forward just as Michael was running out of options. God had disappeared and left the angels to fend for themselves. Metatron, the scribe chosen from the lower ranking angels, had fled just as Gabriel had fled. The news would travel quickly down the line if they didn't cover it up soon. If Castiel had been alerted to the absence of the father he admired so much, he'd never answer to Michael, again. The other angels would follow him into chaos and, this time, Father wouldn't be around to stop it.

And Zachariah had prided himself in his ability to manipulate others into doing his biding. He had no qualms with lying and his smile was steady enough to ensure confidence in the ones he weaved. His biggest concern was with his position and his life. Standing before Michael, he'd agreed to be the telephone line between Castiel and himself as long as his protection was ensured. Michael, thrilled to be rid of the pesky angel, handed Castiel over to him and gave his word that, as long as Zachariah was useful, he'd be taken care of.

And so, Castiel continued to follow blindly. Zachariah led him on a wild goose chase for Michael. Michael overlooked the Heavens he'd inherited in his father's absence. It was all going so well. Even after the angel Anna had fallen and the angel Gadriel was locked in the prisons of Heaven for failing to protect humanity, they were still working seamlessly because Castiel could ensure the others that Michael's word was law. Because the tiny creature with the wings that looked like oil and felt like the softest of cotton still had faith.

But that was before Dean Winchester. That was before he'd gotten a taste of humanity and felt himself above Michael's commands. He'd rebelled and fallen and still wordless followed orders, but they were to a new man. An ape. The dirt of the earth had the full support of the father's second most beautiful angel. It became harder to control the others and then, on the final step before the fight, were he stared into Lucifer's eyes and felt the first feelings of conflict with his fate since Lucifer had stepped out of the picture all those years ago, that same angel had shown up and dowsed him in holy water for the sake of that man. And then all he had known was the cage.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_I am become death, the destroyer of worlds._

**J. Robert Oppenheimer**

* * *

The ground had shook with the force of the emerging darkness and Dean, for all he tried, couldn't pull the Impala from the pothole that had caught hold of the tire. As it descended upon them, he was pretty sure he had felt this scared of anything since he was a kid. Whatever he was feeling though, Sam was wearing a thousand times worse. His big brown eyes were wide with terror and Dean had no doubt in his mind that Sam wouldn't argue anything that he did or said. Just before they were overcome with The Darkness, he abandoned the controls and was across the seat to pull Sam to himself. The action wasn't refuted by the youngest Winchester, though he was in too much shock to return it. There was no plan or way to defeat it. There was no one to help them. Hell, moments before Dean had been close to reaping his own baby brother. There was nothing they could certainly trust in this moment except the inevitable destruction.

It was peculiar, then, when The Darkness did not overcome them, entirely. A hand settled against both of their heads and then there was just silence. They waited a few moments, the sky completely drowned in darkness like a cloudy night. Finally, the two parted and turned back to see a boy sitting peacefully in the back of their car. He was dressed in a black jeans and a t-shirt, looking no older than eighteen or nineteen. His eyes, however, gave the impression of knowledge well beyond his years. He leaned back in the seat and stared right back at the two boys, as if waiting for their questions. 

“Who the hell are you?” Dean demanded, apprehensively. He still was kind of silently freaking out about the oncoming darkness and all that, but there were apparently more immediate dangers that needed to be dealt with.

“I believe you would best know me as Death,” the boy answered, his voice soft and calm. Nothing about him cried urgency, like it did with the two Winchesters. He was content in the very existence of the world.

“Death?” Sam demanded, his eyes wide.

“That's impossible! I just ganked you!” Dean was ready to fight him, again, but there was a guilty look about him. He hadn't _really_ wanted to fight Death, but in the choice between him and his brother, there'd been no contest.

“Not me. I am, however, quite disappointed over that. I would expect better from you, Michael.” The words only proved confusing for Sam and Dean. The latter opened and closed his mouth a few times as if to try and say something, but was unable to.

“That was the old Death,” the man interrupted him before he could even begin. “He was created the first time The Darkness ran rampant over the worlds. When you killed him, his ashes remained. Usually, this wouldn't be of any importance to anyone, but The Darkness needs me to ensure his purpose. God is the one who creates life, I am the one who reaps it and The Darkness consumes it. It is a full cycle. Without one, everything falls into chaos. There is too much life existing in the world, right now, for The Darkness to know where to begin, but it will begin it's work very soon. We are very limited on time.”

“You called my brother, Michael,” Sam pointed out, eyebrow raised. The other looked equally confused at that.

“That is what the memories I've collected tell me,” the teen explained, “That this is… Oh. Wait. No, you are _like_ Michael. My apologies. It's the whole ' _New mind. Who this?_ ' shtik. You'll have to be patient while I short through all of this. Samil was incredibly fond of you, though, Not Michael. It is the reason I came to your aid.”

“Samil?” Dean repeated. Everything the teen said to them was foreign and new. It was obvious that he, himself, didn't even quite comprehend what he was saying.

“Right. He had El's creations call you by other names,” the teen muttered rubbing his face to try and make the memories concrete. “Death. The old one. His true name was Samil. A name is a powerful thing, Not Michael, especially for a creature of such a standing.”

“Alright. Are you trying to say we shouldn't tell you our names?” Dean clarified. “Because if that's just an excuse to call us what you are now, then I think you're kind of an ass.”

“Oh, you should never tell your name to anyone. Not your real one, anyways. The kind of trouble that could get you into is immense.” The teen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking between the two in the front seat. “Personally, I would prefer to call you both Michael and Lucifer, since it is much easier, but you both look incredibly uncomfortable when I do so, so I'm going to assume you'd rather I use your real identities?”

“Since it's basically common knowledge, anyways,” Dean frowned, inspecting this kid with annoyance. “I'm Dean and this is my baby brother, Sam. What about you, hot shot? You got a real name?”

“Not one I am willing to share.” The teen answered with a small smirk. “If you would like, however, I will let you pick my alias. It will be easier for you to remember and I don't particularly want to share the one with my former self.”

“Joseph Black,” Dean answered, a smirk set across his face. Sam, in turn, gave the other something akin to a bitchface.

“Dean, we're not calling him that.”

“Why not! He's basically Brad Pitt, now. Who doesn't want to be Brad Pitt?”

“I like it,” the teen spoke up, making Dean's grin grow more pronounced. “But Joseph seems a little long. How about Joey?”

“Joey it is!” Dean exclaimed, drawing an exasperated sigh out of Sam. He was fairly certain that he was surrounded by idiots. “Well, now that that's settled, we seriously need to get back to our bunker. Is it safe to go out and dislodge the car wheel or are we screwed if we leave the car?”

“Oh, no. You both were lent some of my power. Even if The Darkness was at the stage of devouring humans, it'd leave you for a while.” Joey picked a piece of lint off his jeans, inspecting it before flicking it away, again. “I can't exactly grant you the same protection of an Archangel, but that shouldn't be a concern for the time. The Darkness is going to start with things most similar to itself to build up the power to take on everything else. I would imagine it's going to begin with the things that are dead, followed by the corrupted souls in Hell.”

“The things that are dead?” Sam repeated, seeking an explanation.

Joey stretched a little to gain a more comfortable position. “Yeah. Nothing is really _dead_ when it's killed, unless The Darkness kills it. That was why it was created in the first place – To devour life. Keep balance in the universe and all that Jazz. All the angels that are just floating in-between existence, the demons that you lot have managed to kill, the handful of monsters and creatures of the night that don't quite make it to purgatory. All of the things that are dead aren't _really_ dead, yet. It's why God or I could pluck them from the stream if we wanted to and put 'em back in the game. He has done that for your boyfriend quite a few times, Dean.”

“Boyfriend?” grumbled Dean, a disgusted look crossing his features.

“Yeah. The one with the black wings and the scary Leviathan problem? Or is he over that, now? He was being somewhat of a child last time I saw him. Reminds me an awful lot of Lucifer… Possibly more than you do, Sam.”

“Cas,” Sam stated. “You mean Cas was alive, even when he wasn't?”

“Yeah. Indefinitely. You gotta hope he doesn't die before then and now, though. There's no way God can bring him back once the Darkness devours him.” Joey reached forward from the back seat and switched the radio on, turning a little sour at the song playing from the speaker. “Dean, your music choice is for old people.”

“Hey!” Dean swatted Joey's hand away on instinct, protecting his baby. “My music is classic. You shut your piehole.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Sam shrugged, sympathizing with the teen. Joey rolled his eyes and leaned back with a huff.

“Let's just get going.” The brother's climbed out of the car to pry the wheel free, while Joey laid down in the backseat, his feet up against the window. Dean banged on it, to draw his attention.

“Hey! Put your feet down or you're going to get dirt on the glass!” In response, Joey stuck his tongue out defiantly, but complied. Turning back to Sam and the pothole, Dean couldn't help but grimace. “I can't believe I just got away with yelling at Death.”

“Well, I mean he is just a kid.” Sam and him pushed the Impala out of the hole, both grunting for the effort. “Even if he does have all the knowledge of the universe.”

“God, does this mean we have to play babysitter?” Dean heading for the driver's side. “Because I really would have rather the quick death via The Darkness.”

“It's not that bad, Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes, climbing into his own side of the car. “Let's just get back to the bunker.”

* * *

  _It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men._

**Frederick Douglass**

* * *

The Bunker, much to Dean's dismay, was a disaster. Books littered the ground from their little ordeal with the Stynes. Sam's favorite shirts were scattered across the floor. Dean's entire room had been ransacked and picked through. That was quite a blow to the eldest Winchester, who had finally had something to be proud of. Joey carefully stepped over a few books left at the base of the stairs leading to the main area, most of them dogeared or bent out of shape. Sam, didn't even bother trying to clean up, but Dean couldn't help lifting up one or two of the books and putting them back on the shelf.

“Quite a place you've got here,” Joey mentioned, sarcastically. Dean only shot his a dark look, but Sam was willing to at least provide a little bit of an answer.

“It usually isn't in this bad of a condition.” Joey spun around at the sound of feathers, but it wasn't until the newest arrival spoke up that the other two followed suit.

“Dean...”

“Cas!” It only took a moment for Dean to be across the room, suddenly holding the angel up even though he probably could have stood on his own. They exchanged eye contact for a few moments, until Sam decided he'd had enough of that and interrupted it.

“Cas, what happened?” Castiel, was eying Dean's arm, his eyes a mixture of surprised and relieved. He even managed a small smile, though it was only the slightest upturn of the lips.

“It worked.” It wasn't much of an answer, but it was the best he could do for the time being.

“What worked?” Dean demanded, but he only needed to follow Castiel's line of sight to confirm his suspicions. “Cas… You didn't.”

“It's gone, isn't it?” Castiel replied, snippily. Dean was already moving away from him. His anger from his whole ordeal had been pushed to the back burner while he worried about Joey and Sam and The Darkness, but now was an opportune time for that to come out and he was going to take it.

“Cas, you stupid son of a bitch! I told you to leave it alone! Do you have any idea what you've done?”

“What?” Castiel glanced over, obviously oblivious to whatever Dean meant by that.

“Loverboy has been out since the spell went off, Dean,” Joey piped up, drawing everyone's attention. “Popped over as soon as he could, but clearly didn't get a good look outside when he did.”

“Who's this?” Castiel demanded, his eyes narrowed. He felt a great power and demand for respect coming from the other, but that only proved to make him defy it more. Something like that in the same room as the Winchesters never gave him a good feeling.

“You, I actually remember really well,” Joey hopped over to stand in front of Castiel. He was significantly shorter than the angel, but showed no fear or submission to him. “The last time we met, I believe you were prancing around, pretending to be God. Glad to see you've taken care of your little _problem_ , Castiel.”

“I...” Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but found himself unable to form words. The memory of that time was not something he particularly liked to think of. It did, however, make him realize who he was talking to. “...Death?”

“Not the one you remember, but yes.” Joey gave a short nod as added confirmation. “Samil was killed by Dean just before The Darkness was released. I am quite disappointed in him for that, but you, Castiel. You seem to get yourself involved in an awful lot of trouble, don't you?”

“I… I mean...” Castiel muttered. If someone had told the angel that he'd be scolded by Death, only a few days old and looking like a teenager, a while ago, he probably wouldn't have thought the messenger stupid and ill-informed.

“We do not have time for your babbling apologies and excuses.” Joey waved a hand to dispel any further discussion from the angel. Castiel huffed in defiance. “There is limited time, now. We must act while there is still time. As I told the boys, The Darkness is busy devouring the thing between the planes. It is likely too weak to contend with God's creations, but the more it consumes, the stronger it will become. Even ignoring that, it will begin to corrupt everything it touches – Intensifying over time. Imagine the curse of The Mark across all of creation, because that is what's going to happen if we don't act quickly.”

Dean went still at Joey's statement, his skin crawling as he remembered exactly what that entailed. “We have to stop it.”

“Indeed we do. Fortunately for you, I know someone that can help us.” Joey made his way past them, going to the big table in the center of the room, which featured a map of the world. He pointed a finger somewhere in North America. “I cannot give you an exact location with my current understanding of my powers, but I believe the man you are looking for is somewhere here.”

“Who exactly are we looking for?” Sam leaned over his shoulder to get a good look at where he was pointing. Joey turned to him, disappointed.

“Don't be daft, Sam. We are looking for God, of course.”

“Oh, because that worked _so_ _well_ last time,” Dean laughed, bitterly. Castiel, in contrast, widened his eyes at the idea. Self-consciousness settled in the pit of his stomach and burned through his inside. In a very Winchester fashion, he pushed that concern to the back of his mind and locked it away.

“I will need time to sift through all these memories and snippets of information my former self has collected over the years. I know there's a way that I can find him, but I don't remember quite, yet.” Joey found himself a chair and leaned back in it before closing his eyes. A smirk settled on his face. I will need my beauty rest, so don't go disturbing me.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do while we wait?” Dean demanded, causing Joey to peak at him for a minute.

“What you usually do. There's gonna be a lot more activity now that the end times are here.” Joey propped his feet up on a table, the picture of relaxation. “If you think you're going haywire about this whole thing, imagine a couple of monsters with more instinct than brain power. They're gonna be tearing out throats on a whole new level.”

“And you're just gonna sit here and do squat?” Dean demanded, quelling his alarmed with anger. 

“If I'm being honest, I couldn't care less about your planet's little problem. The Darkness isn't going to cause me any trouble. It takes plenty of work off my hands in fact.”

“If you're so untroubled by it, then why are you helping us at all?” Sam questioned. Joey shot him a disapproving look, which made the younger Winchester wither back a little. His gaze turned back to Dean, far more stern and commanding then anyone in the room was comfortable with. The newly born creature still demanded authority as much as his old self had, the vessel of it's means were just a little unconventional, is all.

“You've been a righteous man, Dean. Your respect towards my old self and your determination to do what is right in your heart makes you so.” The personification of Death returned to his relaxed stance. “Even your baby brother, with all his problems, has always had the best of intentions. The old me stopped trying to get involved because he was a sour patch. He was content with just reaping honorable souls. But me? I'm young and vibrant and new in ways I can't really describe to someone as stunted as you. I'm ready for a little adventure, but it's going to be on my terms. If you _really_ want my help, don't bug me about it. You should just be grateful I chose you to experience it with me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So, while I don't want to abandon this work officially incase I ever get the inspiration, again, I will need to make an announcement that it is going to be on hiatus for the foreseeable future. I'm really not into Supernatural at this time and do not have the inspiration nor the drive to write any of the characters like I have in the past. I am sorry for those that have been enjoying this thus far and hopefully I'll come back to it someday, but as of right now I think not.
> 
> I've never really felt it was necessary to officially announce a hiatus for a story before and maybe it's a little inconsiderate of me to leave my readers waiting, but I am optimistic usually that I will return and it kinda feels like admitting defeat to do this. For this story, however, I have had multiple instances of people leaving comments on my other stories for me to update this one and while I appreciate the dedication, I don't really want those things cluttered with comments meant for this, not to mention a couple passive aggressive comments about how long its been since I updated this on this story itself kinda have killed a lot of my inspiration. I'm super sorry to you guys who were enjoying this and I will keep hopeful that I will get more inspiration in the future, but I don't want to promise anything I don't feel I can produce.

_Most people would look at an animal in a cage and instinctively think it should be set free_ _._

**Scarlett Thomas**

* * *

Once the whole story had been explained to Dean, he had been pretty pissed. Castiel had at least had the courtesy to look guilty while Sam only argued back, insisting that they’d had no other choice. It wasn’t until Joey had finally moved from his nap to tell them both to shut the hell up did the words on their tongues finally die.

“Finally,” Joey grumbled, rolling his eyes at the small group before him. “Really, the two of you argue like an old married couple.” With a groan, he righted himself from the position he’d been holding for quite some time, stretching his neck and bringing his arms above his head. “I don’t know about you three, but all that remembering has made me incredibly hungry. I could go for something to eat. I’ve never had fast food, yet, but something tells me I want nothing but a cheeseburger right now.”

“Do you remember how to find God?” Sam asked, his eyes wide in hope. They dimmed somewhat when Joey shook his head.

“No, not yet,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not exactly knowledge I’ve kept in the forefront of my mind all these years. Let me tell you, I can remember how to pick up that whole Reaper gig, though. As soon as we’re done here, I’m heading back to that whole occupation. Billy had never really been fond of me in the first place, but I can bet you she’s gonna be even less happy about taking orders from a little kid.”

“Billy?” Castiel repeated, but Joey simply waved away his question.

“Reaper. She took Tessa’s job after she went kamikaze.” He waved away the conversation, deciding it’s irrelevance to the current predicament. “She’s one of those people who cares a little _too_ much about the rules, but it’s amusing to watch her get all worked up.”

“Yeah, well… Now that your nap is over, are you going to help us?” Dean demanded, still a little miffed about the whole situation with Castiel.

“That is a joke, right?” Joey returned. “That doesn’t even constitute as a light rest. What with all your bickering, I wasn’t even able to get anything. You boys need to go do something productive with your lives so I can rest in peace.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Dean asked, pointedly. Joey simply shrugged, as if whatever it was wasn’t his problem.

“Wait, I’ve been thinking,” Sam interjected, having all eyes turn to him. “So, if the Darkness got locked up before, you could do it, again, right? However they did it last time, we could kinda repeat that process and put it back, right?”

“I mean, I suppose?” Joey answered, though his expression didn’t sound as convinced, “But it took both god and all of his archangels to do it last time, none of which we currently know the whereabouts of… Or even if they’re alive.”

“That’s not true,” Sam returned, simply. “Death told us already that the angels that died are in this sort of limbo, right? If the Darkness is out there devouring things, they’d probably be the only ones able to survive it, so if we could find a way to revive them!”

“Yes, or we could just have God do it,” Joey answered, “Since we will need him later, anyways.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s too late by then?” Sam questioned, “Or maybe they can help us. I mean, last time we talked to Gabriel he seemed pretty helpfu-”

“ _Please_ do not tell me you genuinely are considering working with that freak,” Dean cut in, earning looks from both Castiel and Sam. Joey just seemed amused.

“Be mindful that that is an archangel you are speaking of and my brother,” Castiel hissed.

“Not to mention he _died_ helping us,” Sam added.

“Fine, whatever. So, you plan we do what exactly?” Dean demanded, “Find a ritual to resurrect a dead archangel? Is there even a way to do something like that?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to look,” Sam replied with a shrug, “I mean, if there is any crumbs at all, it would be found here, right? Besides, there’s another thing we should look into… Some protective wards.”

“What kind of protective wards?” Dean questioned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Instead of answering that, Sam bit his lip and tried to find the words to explain. “I was thinking that, even if we can’t resurrect the other archangels, we know for certain where two are...”

“No,” Dean cut in, his face hardening. “Absolutely not.”

“Dean...” Sam tried to reason. Joey raised an eyebrow at the exchange.

“You mean to release Michael and Lucifer?” the teen confirmed.

“It doesn’t matter what he _means_ to do, ‘cuz he’s not doing it!” Dean objected before Sam could confirm or deny it. “We have already dealt with those SOBs, I’m not pushing our lucky by letting them run rampant on this green earth!”

“Dean, while I can see your hesitance to do this, I’m afraid that you will have no choice but to release them if you wish to defeat the Darkness.” Joey explained.

“Not happening… Not in a million fucking years.”

“Dean...” Castiel muttered, trying to reach out for him, but Dean brushed him off.

“Look, if you want to go poking around with dead people, be my freaking guest,” Dean said, pointing at Sam to emphasis his point, “Hell, I would take God’s Horniest Angel over most of the weird ass things we hunt down every day, but you are _not_ opening the cage. You’re not even going to _visit_ it, so you can give up that idea right now.” Dean didn’t wait to hear their arguments, already storming out of the room.

Joey sighed and settled back into his chair to go to sleep, earning him a look from Sam. “So that’s it? We’re just going to listen to him?”

Joey cracked open one eye and peered at the younger Winchester. “You may do whatever you like, Sam, but I don’t think I need remind you that Dean just basically told you he was cool with you trying to ressurect the dead archangels. While I think the process is unnecessary, you may yet find something and prove me wrong, so why don’t you go ahead and do that thing you’re usually so good at.” And with that, Joey closed his eyes once again and went to sleep.

Sam exchanged a look with Castiel, who could only stare back at him.

“Would you like me to make some coffee?” Castiel inquired, “I have become quite good at it since my time as a human.”

Sam gave a bitter smile and turned to the pile of books tossed carelessly across the floor. “Yeah, Cas… That’d be great.”

* * *

  _A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity._

**King Solomon** ****

* * *

Sam had been doing his usual research shtik when Dean marched up to him and slapped a newspaper over top of his current reading material. Sam shot his elder brother an incredulous look before picking up the paper and scanning the article circled in red pen.

“Three freak murders in which all the victims had their hearts ripped out of their chests.” Dean explained a summary of the article as Sam read. “The locals think it's some kind of deranged serial killer.”

“And we are thinking… Werewolf?” Sam glanced up at his brother for confirmation and Dean supplied it in the form of a nod.

“Yeah. That sounds about right.” Sam finished reading the article and handed it back to his brother, a frown forming on his face.

“I think I should stay here and keep working on finding a way to resurrect the archangels,” Sam insisted. “This is more important.”

“Dude, seriously? So, what, everyone else in the world that’s suffering is second to us sitting around reading up on the latest gossip in… What are you reading?” Dean flipped the edge of Sam’s book. “In Man, Myth and everything in the middle… Seriously? Who named this piece of garbage?”

“Apparently someone named Chris Shawn,” Sam replied with a shrug, “But the point is, if we don’t figure out how to stop the darkness, then all those other lives we saved aren’t going to mean anything, ‘cuz they’ll be dead. There are other hunters who can focus on that stuff, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you know what? I don’t want to leave it to other hunters,” Dean spat back, crinkling his paper slightly. “Dammit, Sam, I need a _break_ from all his big picture bullshit. Come hunting with me like when we used to.”

Sam hesitated a moment, looking like he would give in, but eventually he shook his head. “If you need that, Dean, then go. I’m staying.”

“That’s your answer then?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

“Okay.”

“Great!” Dean stormed off, leaving Sam to roll his eyes and return to his reading. The elder Winchester didn’t even spare him a glance as he packed up his bag and headed for the exit, only stopping when Castiel suddenly appeared behind him as he was packing the car.

“Dean,” Castiel’s gruff voice said, making the Winchester start and hit his head on the hood of the trunk.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Cas,” Dean grumbled, rubbing the top of his head and giving the angel an angry look. “What is it?”

“I would like to come with you,” Castiel answered, simply.

“Huh?”

“I would like to come with you,” Castiel repeated, which only confused Dean more.

“I mean… I guess if you want to,” Dean replied, closing the trunk behind him, still giving Castiel a weird look. “Why, though?”

“I overheard you mentioning you wanted Sam to come,” Castiel answered, “I thought perhaps if you would prefer company, I could...” Castiel’s eyes darted momentarily to the car instead of finishing his sentence.

“Cas, it wasn’t really about having company, it was...” Dean began, only to find himself staring into Castiel’s eyes, the blue of them so honest and genuinely trying to be helpful that he couldn’t bring himself to finish it. “Actually, fuck that. Yeah, I would love to have some company. Hop in.”

The angel did not need to be told twice, finding himself in the passenger's seat. When it was the three of them, Castiel always got booted to the back like a little kid, but it was kind of nice when the two of them could have some time to hang out. For some reason, spending time with the angel had ended up being a lot easier than doing so with his brother, over the years. Dean almost felt bad, but he couldn’t _help it_. Castiel was simple, earnest, genuine. Sam always seemed to have some kind of ulterior motive or hidden thought haunting him.

“Dean,” Castiel said as Dean started up the car. “I was not being entirely truthful when I said I wanted to come with you, though your desire for company was part of it.”

“Oh?” Dean glanced over at him for a moment before backing up out of his parking space and putting his baby on the road. “What was the reason you wanted to come, then.”

“Dean…” Castiel paused, biting his bottom lip as he considered his answer. Dean noted that that was a rather new quirk. Something he must have picked up, recently. “I feel… I feel like we need to talk.”

“Yeah?” Dean returned, his voice slightly strained but he wasn’t going to let that one little sentence make him go running to the hills, not yet anyways. Best to wait until Castiel admitted what he wanted to talk about.

Blue eyes met green, so much unspoken sincerity in them that it probably would have scared Dean more if it wasn’t _Castiel_ staring back at him. The angel’s voice was soft, reassuring, but firm enough to remind him that he would not waver on this. “Yes, Dean… I believe that it is important that we reconcile… For the sake of the others, if nothing else.”

“M’kay,” Dean agreed, because of course he would. He was still angry, he was still holding onto bitterness that the angel hadn’t listened to him, but also… This was his buddy and if Castiel wanted to clear the air, the least Dean could do was let him have the chance.


End file.
